


Suit and Tie

by pmastamonkmonk



Category: LazyTown
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 09:40:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9433355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pmastamonkmonk/pseuds/pmastamonkmonk
Summary: Robbie Rotten is the best tailor in town, and he knows better than to fall for the groom... even if that groom happens to be handsome, buff, and all too friendly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the prompt from kitschdemotic on tumblr. Tailor!Robbie/Mistaken Identity AU

Misura Marcio held a rich history that Robbie Rotten was very proud of. Opened by his grandfather on the high end uptown just outside of Lazy Town and passed down two generations, they were the best of the best when it came to menswear, clothing the elite and high end of society with expertise unmatched.

Robbie remembered long days with his father, holding measuring tape and fabric swatches as he tended customers, watching as pins slid through wool like butter and suits took on a life of their own as they were fit to the wearer. Evenings sifting through material and colors and pattern books, his father ever watchful as delicate fingers handled even finer silks. He remembers the proud gleam in his father’s eye when he completed his first floor ready suit jacket – one that had eagerly been purchased by a long time customer who praised him and told Glanni that “your boy has a bright future ahead of him here”.

He remembered his father, stern yet warm, as he was fitted into his own suits year after year. “A Rotten is always well dressed for the occasion.” The proud gleam in Glanni’s eyes when Robbie fitted his own at 16, purple pinstripes in black wool, and the firm pat on the back he received as they marveled at his reflection.

Robbie, in the decades to come, had dressed princes and politicians, prom eager teenagers and wedding party after wedding party. His eye for color and cut had only sharpened with age and even though the hawkish eyes of Glanni Glaeper had long since left this world, the regard his namesake held only grew.

Which is why Robbie was not at all surprised when the bell above the door tinkled merrily, announcing a new entry to the showroom. Tossing his measuring tape around his neck and smoothing his burgundy vest of any chalk marks, he made his way from his work table to greet whoever had walked in.

“Oh, hello there. I was hoping you could help me with a suit?”

Robbie stared for a moment, mouth slightly agape as his mind went blank. The man before him was utterly gorgeous despite his unkempt attire. Jogging pants, beat up trainers, and a t-shirt that looked ready to give under the bulk of the muscles beneath it – not something Robbie would expect in his neck of the woods. But that face – still somewhat flushed from exertion with blonde hair damp with sweat, his blue eyes seemed to glow and sparkle. 

After an embarrassingly long moment Robbie cleared his throat. “I’d be happy to. What’s the occasion?” He busied himself with a display of collared shirts, straightening the already pristine array in an attempt to disguise his flushing face. The other man approached, still taking in the shop, a small grin on his face.

“A wedding.” His accent was warm and inviting, and Robbie couldn’t quite place it. “I’m under strict orders from the bride and I don’t want to disappoint.”

Heart falling, Robbie sighed to himself. Of course. Of course this beautiful man was getting married – why else would he be here? He let the momentary disappointment sink deep before straightening and turning back with his most professional expression.  
“Well, we wouldn’t want that now would we?” he gestured towards the tie display on the far wall, something he found worked very well for grooms who couldn’t discern between teal and aquamarine to save their life. “What’s the color palette we’re working with, Mr…?”

“Sportacus.” The other man extended his hand, eyes crinkling at the corner. “She said you were the best in town, I know you won’t let me down.”

Robbie was sure his face was flushing again and he mentally jabbed the flutter in his chest back down with a stern reminder that this was a groom he would be dressing and that meant off limits. He took the other man’s hand in a firm shake, warm as his smile, and cleared his throat. “Robbie.”

The other man followed him around the shop answering questions in the vague sort of way most grooms did. He knew the wedding colors included pink, but couldn’t discern what shade. He said he was instructed to get a tux, but wasn’t sure if he was supposed to have a bow tie or a vest. He had no idea what a pocket square was and looked completely baffled when asked if he preferred wool or a synthetic fabric.

He was used to unprepared grooms, but this man had no idea what the difference between a double and single breasted jacket was. “I’ve never really worn a suit before,” he admitted with a laugh, “I work as a personal trainer, so I’m usually in work-out clothes or jeans. Everything here is so fancy.”

Robbie sighed, a smile tugging at his mouth as he pulled his measuring tape from his shoulders. He gestured him to the podium and pulled out a form. “We’ll start with some measurements, I’ll create a list of questions for you to give the bride and we can have you two come back another day this week.”

Sportacus hummed. “I don’t know if Stephanie will have time to come along, but I’ll have her answer the questions. I don’t want to pick the wrong thing,” he dutifully held out his arms as Robbie pressed the tape against his delightfully firm shoulders and jotted down a number.

“Ah, and is there a day that will work better for you then?” Robbie looped the tape around the other man’s chest, taking a steadying breath as he felt the muscles beneath his wrist shift with Sportacus’ breathing.

“Any day that you are free will work, I jog at the park down the street… sort of decided to come in here all of a sudden today. I’m glad you weren’t too busy.”

“I was working on another order in the back, but it won’t be due for another few days so it’s no trouble.” The tape dropped to his waist and Robbie was glad he was looking down so the other man couldn’t see how he bit his lip as fingers shifted over tight abs. Sportacus was built like a Greek god and Robbie certainly appreciated it. He took a calming breath as he lowered himself, “Inseam,” he warned, both to his customer and himself. Closing his eyes for a moment and firmly reminding himself that this was a groom, a soon to be married straight man, he cleared his throat. “Tell me about the bride.”

“Stephanie? She’s great! She’s been my best friend for years and I really want this to be a perfect day for her.” Sportacus smiled widely, “She told me about your shop and said I had to get my suit done here. You made one for her uncle a few years ago and he still raves about it – it was very nice.”

Robbie straightened up, eyes averted as he took a few final measurements – arm length, cuff detail, jotting down the man’s height. “That’s very flattering. I do appreciate recommendations from pleased customers-”

Sportacus’ hand grazed the back of his and Robbie looked up to find him smiling at him, “You’re very talented, do you do everything yourself?”

Mouth opening and closing uselessly, Robbie was sure his face was flaming. “Y-yes. The shop is small so I do the work myself… b-busier times I’ll have a few aides to answer the phones or… or take measurements but I do the sewing myself.”

His heart skipped a beat as tan fingers shifted over the fabric of his vest. “Even this one?”

Robbie nodded, finding himself unable to speak. 

Sportacus pulled back, smiling widely. “Then I know I’ll be in good hands. Can I come back tomorrow afternoon? Around this time?”

Swallowing thickly, Robbie nodded again. “My afternoon is clear after two… just have the bride answer these questions…” he finished jotting some notes, hoping the clipboard in his hand hid his flushed face before handing the paper over. He swore he felt a spark as their fingers touched and kept mentally chanting _“groom, groom, groom, groom”._

“Alright then, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“T-tomorrow.”

Sportacus beamed once more and made his way out the door, the bell jingling as he left. Robbie could see him start at a jog as he hit the sidewalk and quickly shuffled into the backroom, pressing his back against the closed door and a hand to his mouth as he slid to the floor.

He was so completely, unbelievably, undeniably screwed.

 

 

The next morning Robbie kept himself busy. He most certainly did not glance at the clock every five minutes waiting for two thirty to roll around, nor did he run from the back every time the bell rang eager to see blonde curls and tan skin only to be disappointed again and again. He most certainly did not check his reflection every time he passed the mirror to straighten the collar of his buttercup shirt or smooth his tie.

He assured himself that he could be professional. Sportacus had only been being nice the day before. His flattery was nothing he hadn’t heard hundreds of times before from previous customers, the touching had been accidental – he was doing measurements, it was only natural for them to brush against one another. Just because the other man was so warm and his muscles so firm and his smile so genuine it didn’t mean anything, right?

Sewing a button in place, glasses perched on the tip of his nose he sniffed delicately. “We could be… friends.” The empty room didn’t answer and he scoffed again, the needle in his hand shaking ever so slightly as if mocking him. Him, friends with the other man, the personal trainer and the guy who had watched every season of Project Runway at least four times. What would they even talk about? Kale?

No, it would be easier if Robbie just pushed all thoughts of him out of his head and kept their relationship completely professional. The man was getting married in two months and Robbie’s thoughts of him and his biceps were certainly nothing close to just friendly. 

It was just a crush. A crush on a disgustingly handsome man who was going to look absolutely gorgeous in a suit he was creating and life just was not fair he needed to go eat a whole cheesecake and have a good old fashioned bathroom cry.  
Luckily his 1:30 client chose that moment of his panic to walk in and Robbie was quickly distracted with fitting and pinning a suit jacket and trousers to a more flattering shape. “Mr. Ego, you must be more careful with this, I told you the wool was dry clean only – it shrinks.”

Mr. Ego, a portly man with a bushy broom-like mustache, gave a cheerful guffaw. “Tell that to the Missus! I have to sneak away to come see you as it is, almost like having an affair with a silk tie!”

Robbie gave an awkward chuckle, noting on the seam where to let it out. “Well, hide this if you must, any more shrinkage and I won’t have anything to let out, we’ll have to make you all new trousers.”

“Much worth it, my boy, much worth it. Why, I still have a suit your father made me, best piece of clothing I’ve ever had, I dare say. Your work is fine, just fine, and I’d be pleased to have more in my wardrobe.”

Smiling shyly, Robbie motioned for him to re-enter the dressing room to change, stretching his back to loosen sore muscles from crouching for so long. As he leaned back, his hand brushed against something and he jerked around, stumbling and pin wheeling his arms in an attempt to stay upright. He gave a yelp when an arm wove around his waist, a second hand landing on his arm to steady him.

“Whoa! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Sportacus!” Robbie blushed, ducking his head – he hadn’t meant his voice to come out so shrill. He cleared his throat, “I… I didn’t see you there, you surprised me.”

Laughing brightly, Sportacus bounced a bit in place. “I was watching you work, it was very interesting. You really know what you’re doing.”

Flush deepening, Robbie’s eyes dropped to the floor as his heart hammered in his chest. The curtain from the dressing room pushed aside and Robbie jumped, separating himself from Sportacus’ warm hold as Mr. Ego made re-entered. Sportacus reached after him but let his arm drop as Robbie turned his attention back, accepting the suit from Mr. Ego and assuring him it would be ready the following Friday.

Once the other man left, Robbie cleared his throat. “I’ll just… put this in my work room and we’ll get started.” Before Sportacus could respond Robbie made his way behind the desk into the back room, once again pressing himself against the closed door. His heart was racing, he could feel the warmth of Sportacus’ arm like a tattoo on his lower back. Looking to the ceiling he tried to calm his racing pulse – what was wrong with him? He’d only met the other man the day before, there was no reason to react like this!  
He took a few more moments to compose himself, carefully placing Mr. Ego’s suit in a garment bag and hanging it up on the rack for adjustments. He once again smoothed down his vest, tucking his glasses into his trouser pockets as he took a deep, calming breath, and let himself back out onto the show floor.

Sportacus was admiring a display of collared dress shirts and Robbie let himself look for a few moments. Still in drabby work out clothes, and still absolutely stunning. Robbie couldn’t help but wonder what he would like in one of those collared shirts and a nicely tailor pair of trousers… 

As though feeling that he was being watched, Sportacus turned to him and smiled. A zing of heat flashed through Robbie’s body and he blushed, knowing he’d been caught as Sportacus made his way over. 

“Stephanie answered those questions you gave me, so hopefully we’ll be able to get started,” he held the paper out to him and Robbie took great care for their fingers not to brush as he accepted it, busying himself with opening the folded paper and reading the answers.

His designers mind took over, giving him a momentary reprieve from embarrassment. Black suit jacket and trousers, light pink for the vest, tie, and pocket square. She’d circled satin edged notch lapel and scratched out tail coat. Fairly straight forward…  
“The bridesmaids are wearing pink,” Sportacus helpfully supplied. “It’s Stephanie’s favorite color.”

Robbie jolted; he’d almost forgotten Sportacus was there. Clearing his throat, he nodded decisively. “This is very helpful. Let me gather a few things and we’ll get started on narrowing it down.”

Sportacus grinned and took a seat by the counter as Robbie collected what he needed. Returning with arms full, he spread out a few fabric swatches of various shades of pale pinks. Sportacus immediately pushed the dusty rose away as well as the seashell and sweetheart rose, saying they weren’t the right color. After almost thirty minutes of taking swatches away and putting them back and comparing and holding them up against one of the premade tuxes, Sportacus had run his hands through his hair enough to make it delightfully tousled, his brow knit in utter confusion.

“How about,” Robbie cleared his throat, “you take these three and ask her. Then we’ll know it’s right. I can start on the suit jacket and trousers because we know those will be black and I can take care of the rest after she decides.”

Sighing in relief, Sportacus nodded. “I’m terrible with colors,” he admitted with a shy grin. “I mostly like blues, but even then I couldn’t tell you the difference other than one being light and one being dark.”

“You’re not the only one, it’s very common here… I’ve had some grooms come in with flowers asking me to color match after picking the wrong shade and the brides hitting the roof.”

Sportacus laughed – a warm open laugh that made Robbie smile unbidden. “Stephanie’s not that bad, I’m sure one of these will be perfect for her.” He took great care to gently fold the squares of fabric and place them in his pocket. “I can have her answer by tomorrow or the day after, maybe?”

Robbie held his hands up, “No rush. It will take a few weeks for me to have the base of your suit done anyway.”

He wasn’t sure, but Robbie almost thought Sportacus looked disappointed at that. “Oh… so should I come back… next week then?”

Licking his lips, Robbie shrugged. “I mean, if you have the answer tomorrow you’re more than welcome to come-“ Sportacus took his hand and Robbie’s voice cracked to silence, staring at their locked hands in surprise. 

“I’ll come back tomorrow then!”

Unable to speak, Robbie nodded, swallowing thickly. He slowly raised his eyes to Sportacus’, feeling his face heat as the other man locked eyes with him. God, his eyes were so blue…

The bell above the door rang and Robbie jolted away. Sportacus looked down for a moment, biting his lip before stepping back from the counter. “I’ll come by tomorrow to let you know what color.”

Nodding, Robbie watched him leave, taking a long moment before turning his attention back to the new customer. “Miss Travesura, here to pick up your husband’s jacket?”

 

Robbie was doomed. He was going to hell and the devil had blue eyes and blonde hair and a stupid mustache and he just wanted to kiss him and get it over with.

Sportacus kept coming to the shop almost every day, most of the time for no reason. He’d come the next day to let him know which shade of pink would be needed and hung around chatting for half an hour about nothing before they were interrupted by another customer. He was back two days later with cupcakes from the bakery down the street, claiming to remember Robbie mentioning how much he loved chocolate cake the last time he was there. After that, his visits became daily.

Sometimes he would ask about his suit and be reminded that it wouldn’t be ready for another fitting for a few more days, but most of the time he didn’t even bother with an excuse, just coming in unannounced. Robbie had even begun bringing him back into the workshop so he could continue getting things done without having him leave, the other man perched on a chair in the corner as he worked. 

They spoke of everything and nothing, the weather, their day to day activities, the legacy of the shop they were in and Sportacus’ father the acrobat. He talked about his childhood in Iceland and Robbie afternoons piecing together shirts with ill fitting sleeves and ties too short to tie in the very room they stood in. Sportacus would tease about Robbie dressing down and going for a run with him, Robbie would jab back that at least he was dressed for proper society and sometimes threaten to force him into a collared shirt and tie if he didn’t behave and _stop doing push ups, you’re distracting me._

The impending wedding never seemed to come up and Robbie was grateful for that. It was easier to pretend the beautiful man was just another customer and not a groom to be. He could pretend the other man was flirting with him and not just nice, that his compliments were fueled by more than polite admiration. But he didn’t fool himself, he knew his one sided attraction was fruitless – the man was getting married. He was making the suit Sportacus would be wearing at the altar, what he’d have his first dance in, what his bride would remove in their honeymoon suite that night.

He convinced himself it was just a harmless crush that would go away with time. Once they were done with the tux, Sportacus would have no reason to keep coming by and the visits would stop. He could get back to his normal routine – the silent work room, the smell of wool and silk. No more cheerful laughter, silly jogging pants or surprise cupcake visits.

Robbie was most certainly not going to miss having him visit. He definitely wasn’t developing feelings for the other man. A man soon to be married. He was better than that.

Robbie did what he did best, he bottled it all up and pushed it aside. 

Finally the day of the final fitting came. Robbie waited as Sportacus changed, busying himself with straightening the display tux on the mannequin and smoothing the collar. The curtain was pulled aside and he turned, breath catching in his chest.  
The tux fit perfectly. His shoulders broad, waist narrow, tan skin glowing as he adjusted the cuffs. Robbie most certainly would not have chosen pink, wishing a delicate sky blue had been selected instead to better show off the other man’s eyes but beggars can’t be choosers. As it was, he cleaned up marvelously and Robbie felt his heart race.

“It’s so comfortable!” Sportacus marveled, shifting this way and that to eye himself in the mirror. “Every other suit I’ve worn was so stiff, but I can really move in this one!” he laughed brightly, doing a few jumping jacks to show off. He whirled around, smiling wide with his arms out. “How do I look?”

Robbie cleared his throat, reaching forward to straighten his tie that had become askew with the bouncing. “You clean up quite well, much better than those dreadful jogging clothes.”

“You _like_ my jogging clothes,” Sportacus teased, “you said so the other day.”

“I liked the _color_ ,” Robbie corrected, cheeks pinkening. “You looked like a hobo.”

“But not right now?”

“No. Now you look quite respectable. I might not be embarrassed to be seen in public with you right now.”

Sportacus grinned, glancing down shyly before looking back up. “Does that mean you’d go to dinner with me? Tonight?”

Robbie’s hands froze where they were, smoothing down the lines of Sportacus’ sleeves, brow knitting in confusion. “Out to…?”

“Not in this, obviously,” Sportacus hastened to correct, “but I do have other clothes than my jogging stuff. You said you liked Italian and there’s this place down the way-“

Sportacus kept talking but all Robbie’s pulse was pounding in his ears. He saw the other man’s lips moving but all he could hear was _“I’m getting married this weekend but I wouldn’t mind one last go around if you’re up for it”_

He could feel his face heating, but this time it was out of anger. He stepped back pointedly, allowing his mask of professionalism to slide back on.

“I’m afraid I’m busy tonight.”

Sportacus’ face fell for a moment before lighting back up. “Well how about-“

“And the rest of the week. Quite busy.”

There was an awkward pause. “Oh. Maybe…”

Robbie’s tone was clipped, “Next week, too.”

Sportacus’ face fell. “Right. Okay.” He shifted awkwardly for a moment before abruptly turning back to the changing room and yanking the curtain closed. Robbie could hear fabric shifting in a rush and didn’t even have it in him to warn the other man not the wrinkle his jacket.

He could feel the hot sting of tears behind his eyes, mouth trembling in a mix of anger and sadness. Leaving the suit box on the chair, he strode back to the work room. Sportacus had paid for the suit early in the process – another limp excuse to visit that now worked in his favor. Closing the door to the work room and leaning against it, Robbie let his head thump against the wood.

A gorgeous man wanted to take him on a date so he could cheat on his bride to be. Fantastic.

He could hear tentative steps approach the door and he held his breath as they stopped just outside. There was a long moment of silence and then a sigh before the steps retreated. He didn’t let out his breath until the door jingled, sliding to the floor and letting the tears fall.

This was why you didn’t fall in love with the grooms.

 

Robbie let himself have an ice cream fueled pity party that night. A pint of chocolate chunk ripple didn’t quite fill the hole in his heart but he scraped the bottom of the carton clean anyway.

The next morning he took a hot shower, put on his best purple pinstriped suit, and told himself he would completely forget about Sporta-cheat. 

His first two appointments went fine. Mr. Ego picked up his new suit, telling him he’d be back in a week when his wife shrank it again, followed by a few young boys getting fitted for the upcoming prom season. The teenagers kept him so busy running from one end of the shop to the other he didn’t notice the red haired gentleman walking into the shop until he’d managed to finally shoo the boys and their parents out the door.

After a deep breath, he approached the new customer. “I apologize, prom season is starting up and I haven’t yet hired my seasonal staff. I hope you haven’t waited long.”

The other man had his arms folded across his chest, giving him a long once over with an unimpressed look. “You’re Robbie?”

Bristling at the accusatory tone, he pursed his lips. “Yes, I’m the owner. How may I help you?”

“You can help me by explaining why I’m getting married tomorrow and my best man is completely heartbroken.”

Robbie’s face contorted into confusion, “I’m sorry?”

“Sportacus! He’s been coming here almost every day for a month and won’t shut up about you!” his arms waved aggressively. “It’s always Robbie this and Robbie that and ‘his eyes are so pretty, Pixel, what if he doesn’t like me?’ It’s been like dealing with a Labrador retriever on top of all the other wedding stuff I’ve had to worry about!”

Mouth flapping uselessly Robbie stared at him.

“And then yesterday he comes home, eats _my_ ice cream instead of his low fat yogurt crap and tells me that you hate him for some reason and he doesn’t know what he did!” Pixel, Robbie assumed, scowled darkly. “He ate my ice cream, man. What the hell did you do to him?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Robbie shrieked. He stopped, realization crossing his face. “Wait, did you say best man? As in, not the groom?”

It was Pixel’s turn to look confused. “Yeah. He’s my best man. I’m the groom.” They stared at each other for a long moment, “You thought- and he… oh my god, he never told you he was the best man.”

“He said he was getting a tux for a wedding and all the orders came from the bride!” 

“This is why I told him we should all go to the same tailor, but no he had to go to your shop.” Pixel huffed, eyes rolling to the ceiling. “You know he picked this place because he saw you one day when he was jogging like a year ago? Me and Steph’s wedding gave him a reason to talk to you.”

Robbie flushed, averting his eyes. “I thought he was the one getting married,” he muttered, “I’m not about to date a guy getting married…”

“As you shouldn’t,” Pixel laughed, obviously finding the situation as ridiculous as it was. “Sportacus, Sportacus, Sportacus, my man you are an idiot…” another laugh and a sigh. “You do like him, though, right?”

“Yeah…” Robbie admitted bashfully. “I do…”

“Alright, then. When do you close up? I’ll get him to come by so you two can work this out.”

The next few hours were nerve wracking for Robbie. He managed to sew a sleeve inside out three times on the same jacket before finally calling it quits and reorganizing the store front to try and clear his head. He felt like such a fool, of course Sportacus wasn’t the type to cheat on anyone, the man wouldn’t hurt a fly. 

He was putting a new tie on his display mannequin when the bell above the door jingled. He turned and jolted, realizing it was Sportacus standing at the door. For once he wasn’t in work-out clothes, instead wearing a pair of dark wash jeans and a blue v-neck shirt – Robbie was right, it really did bring out his eyes. 

They stood awkwardly on opposite sides of the store, Sportacus shuffling from foot and foot and looking at the floor, obviously unsure of what to do. Robbie felt a warm flood of affection, catching the hint of pink on the tips of the other man’s ears, moving away from the mannequin and taking Sportacus’ hand in his before he lost the nerve.

“Robbie, I-“

“You’re the best man.”

Sportacus stopped, cheeks flushing as he nodded.

“Not the groom.”

He shook his head.

“And not dating anyone right now?”

Another shake of his head.

“Good, then I won’t feel guilty for doing this.”

And with that, Robbie leaned in and kissed him. Sportacus melted against him, eagerly returning the kiss, his free hand curling around Robbie’s neck.

“God I’ve wanted to do that since the first day you came in,” Robbie admitted when they finally separated, grinning when Sportacus flushed becomingly. 

The other man smiled shyly, “Me, too.”

Robbie snuck another quick kiss. “You look very nice, today, I wouldn’t mind being seen in public with you right now.”

Sportacus grinned widely as if he had been given the best gift ever. “Really?” Robbie hummed and Sportacus laughed, arms circling Robbie’s waist as he lifted him up and spun around excitedly. “Can we go now?”

Laughing along, Robbie nodded, not at all surprised when Sportacus leaned up for another kiss. “Alright, let me close up and we can go, you said it was nearby?”

“Right down the road,” Sportacus was smiling so wide Robbie was sure his cheeks must be aching, he knew his were. He quickly grabbed his coat from the backroom, shutting off the lights and flipping the closed sign before following Sportacus out the door, locking it behind him. The other man shyly took his hand, beaming proudly when Robbie’s fingers interlaced with his own.

Dinner was fantastic. After a little bit of teasing on Robbie’s part, Sportacus admitted that Pixel was right, he had seen Robbie the spring before while on a jog – changing his route from a path across town to the park nearby on the off chance he would see him again. Robbie admitted to being immediately smitten with him the moment he’d walked into the shop. Their shoes knocked against one another under the table and they barely let go of each other’s hand long enough to eat.

“You know,” Sportacus started as they reached the steps at the front of Robbie’s apartment building, “Pixel and Stephanie gave me a plus one for tomorrow… if you’re interested.”

Robbie smiled, giving Sportacus one last kiss for the evening.

“I’d love to.”


End file.
